Ever since I heard that my father was almost killed by terrorists, and my uncle was arrested just because he had bought dozens of batteries and seemingly excessive amount of foods for winter to feed his nine kids I have been wondering what the terrorism was and why it existed, why it was impossible to abolish it. My father feared, my mother feared, my uncle never bought more than one battery because he feared and I feared. How dark, how small, how meaningless the world had appeared every time we feared.
Bombs exploded in our village we watched and remained quiet. My friends’ fathers and brothers disappeared, we watched and remained quiet. Soldiers, innocent civilians were killed we watched and remained quiet. Our village got smaller and smaller every passing day. They even killed our animals and burnt our uncropped lands. Who were they? Terrorists! Who were terrorists? None of us knew!

Then there came killings, bombings, inexplicable explosion and worst of all tortures first on the screen of the box called TV. Then my mind played those scenes over and over again. The newsmen said it was terrorism, presidents of almost all countries said that it was terrorism, ministers said that it was terrorism and when we were told that we were supposed to fear it, hate it without being given any explanation about what terrorism was , why it had existed and how small groups of people could be more powerful than the big states with big armies. I wanted to understand but I was still little. Worst of all I was still smaller than my fears.

I went to school. They taught me what to do when and if the war began in Northern Iraq. Why did we have to get involved with the war if we had nothing to do with it? Weren’t we independent? Why was our then president so weak to take an order from America? I was told to be quiet by those big, tall even violent male tutors who were as little as me in taking orders from their masters. I remained quiet but my mind was a battlefield, it was loud and troubled. Every day it was attacked by the newsmen, policemen, tutors, authors of bloody history and terrorists. And bloody terrorists! How did they always manage to be more powerful than all the states, I wondered but I was told to stay little and die in fear.

Wars, fights, tortures appeared on that little box! They blended my fear with hatred. They angered my Kurdish father who lived in fear of being arrested by the state if not or abducted to the mountains by the terrorists in any moment. Newsmen fueled his fears and he attacked my mother who was Turkish, he attacked us. He was not a terrorist, nor was my uncle but they were forced to become one by violent armed groups! They were the real terrorists but no one knew who they were, where they got their guns, foods and bombs.

“We have to go to Adana and we have to go now!” exclaimed my father in the middle of the night when they burnt my school just like they had done so to my mother’s school and left her illiterate. Years later I was going to discover that ignorance and fear were more powerful than nuclear bombs. They wanted to keep Kurdish folk as ignorant as they possibly could. The newsman said it was PKK, my father said it was not, he knew something but he was not completely clear about it. And we escaped from Hakkari that night.

“No Kurd would ever harm any Kurd or Turk!” he exclaimed once again. “They only use us, they are gavurs!” he added ferociously. I felt his pain and frustration and I wanted to know who those gavurs were. I did not know how to feel about the school however, because all I learnt there was that how to be little and how to fear. I felt relieved but not completely. I wanted to know what terrorism was and who those gavur terrorists were and what they wanted from us…

“They want to divide our country!” said one of the ministers on the TV when we moved to Adana and began having relatively peaceful evenings in our new home. Why did they want to do that I wondered and I was no longer so little. I was 11 years old.

When I was 12 I saw Palestinians being killed and tortured on top of the mountains by terrorists. Were they the same terrorists who burnt my school, I wondered. My uncle talked about Hamas, he asked me what I knew about it. What could I have known about them at that age?

“They are terrorists!” said he with fear. He did not look so sure, but because he was older than me and he was my uncle I did not question his uncertainty. And I saw how his fears darkened and narrowed his mind and he was not the only one. That was the main aim of showing those torture scenes so explicitly on every national channel. Paralyzing millions of minds and lives with fear!

“Is it Hamas who kills and tortures Palestinians every day? Are they the ones who burn the babies just because they are Arabs?” I asked, while some part of me was longing to fly a kite with my Kurdish friends in the green field that looked infinite and suggestive in front of us.

“No! But you better don’t know who they are!” said he, darkness of fear in his eyes.
“Why?” I asked, but he refused to answer.

“Go and play with your friends, enjoy your childhood!” said my uncle who had lost his manhood when terrorists had tortured him. I did go and hug my Kurdish friend Leyla in the green filed which mother nature had decorated with yellow flowers for all of us with abundance. We flew a kite together somehow knowing that we were not as free as our kite was. And we somehow knew that we were going to pursue something bigger than us to become freer than our kite. No, we uttered no word but we hugged and let our hearts talk.

“They are armed and funded by America, Germany, France and England!” explained a fearless journalist one day. I admired him for being braver than our then president and finally killing the most stubborn bug of my mind. That day was the day I wanted to become a journalist and undress all the liars in the world just to see all kids in the world fly a kite with no fear or worry.

One week before choosing journalism to study at college, I heard that my favorite fearless journalist was assassinated. Everyone knew that the same terrorists, whose evil acts he had exposed, had done it but the laws required clear evidence. Yes, I was upset and I knew that it was not right to become a journalist in a country which was the target of terrorists and their fearful, little masters who were hiding behind them. I was supposed to become a journalist in a country which produced terrorists to see the other side of the coin.

While I was chasing money and playing an idiot little lady before getting where I wanted the same newsman told the world on a September day that terrorists had become more powerful than America and attacked Twin Towers. How could that be possible? Thousands of Americans were killed by the same masters who had fed the terrorists and order them to burn my and my mother’s school. That was a game-changing move and but not so smart! It was shocking but not believable because fundamental principle of the terrorist makers was still the same! It was still the fear and violence!

Truth remained foggy in my mind and in millions of other people’s minds for years as the bloody war continued in Iraq due to terrorism. I was busy discovering Western culture which constantly sold the world moral values while suffering from the worst outcomes of the immorality itself. Its only aim was to destroy other nations’ preserved moral lives and values by attacking their languages and cultures. Wasn’t that the reason why I had immigrated to England? Wasn’t that also terrorism?

By the time I studied journalism in so called democratic England where female journalists cannot get where they want without serving as sexual objects first, truth about terrorism and terrorist makers was already out! Thanks Jullian Assange!

Terrorism was justification for the terrorist state to attack Iraq.Distribution of democracy was an excuse for the undemocratic violent state who strategically kill its own people. Existence of weapons of mass destruction in Iraq was a lie for the terrorist state which is the only state in the world history that used nuclear weapons first in Mexico ,second in Japan. Did the terrorist state find WMD in Iraq? Did they bring democracy to Iraq? Did the terrorism end? No! Because those who blame terrorism and the terrorists to justify their acts are the one and the same people!

Years have gone, terrorism did not end and it will continue in and outside of the US as long as the owners of the US remain the same. Founders of the terrorist groups like Obama will continue to be rewarded with Noble Peace Prize as long as we remain fearful little individuals like I was until I lost my school and until I was forced to leave my country hatefully by an invisible army in my head.

I am now freer than the kite I flew with Leyla that day. You free yourselves from all kinds of artificial fears and deliberate confusion which conquer your mind through media and terrorize you without your consent and let your kids have no bias against any race or religion. Let them fly kites together again, that is how we end terrorism.